I apologise for the delay in posting this. One of my bosses pulled on the puppy dog eyes and had me working 5days and 3nights, so any free time I've had I've been pretty much dead (or doing my night course! What has two thumbs and is a glutton for punishment?).
Thanks, as always, for the reviews/alerts/favourites to the last chapter, glad you're sticking around! It's always a risk when you get the couple together so early on, but there's plenty of drama to come to hopefully keep you interested. I'm 97.5% sure I've finished writing it now, so it'll be around for a while ;)
Song in this chapter is 'Ever the Same' by Rob Thomas. Thanks to Melinda for the rec! x
On with the show...
Stella followed the crowds through the airport arrivals lounge, hitching her hold-all higher on her shoulder. She was stuffing a water bottle back in the pocket, side-stepping a runaway toddler, when she heard her name being called.
She looked around, over the thin crowd of people waiting for loved ones or customers.
"Stella!"
She followed the voice, finally seeing Aaron over the top of everyone else, his height working in their favour. She smiled and pointed to the end of the walkway. He nodded and followed her directions.
"What are you doing here?" she asked as he took the bag from her shoulder. She rolled the joint as the weight was lifted off.
"Took the day off, thought I'd drive you home," he smiled that lopsided smile that made her stomach tighten.
"You didn't have to do that, I'd have caught a cab."
"Why hail a cab when I have a company car?" he grinned and leant into kiss her.
"Company car, eh?" she smiled as she turned her head just a slight so his kiss landed on her cheek.
"Yep, got it yesterday," he said with slight confusion in his brown eyes.
"Congratulations," she smiled. It was only now that her heart sank and guilt took a firm grasp of her gut. She tried to banish them as she reached up to kiss him properly. There was a lot to discuss, but not in an airport and certainly not before she'd spoken to Mac.
"You okay?" he asked, seeing the distant look in her green eyes.
Said eyes snapped to him, "Hmm? Oh, yeah. Tired, I guess. It's been a long few days."
Aaron nodded, "Come on. Let's get you home."
Xx
Stella settled onto the bench with a huff. She hadn't slept well the night before and excused herself from Aaron's company before it meant staying the night.
She fed her combination into the lock and used her feet to swing the metal locker door open, it clanging against the next and sending a satisfying ruckus reverberating around the room.
What had she done? She didn't regret sleeping with Mac (it was like Mac had said that morning, after 16 years, it was bound to happen), but she deeply, deeply regretted how much it would hurt Aaron.
It was getting to her already. Her gut felt like a tonne lead weight had taken up residence and the pain in her shoulder kept her mind not too far from the situation at hand.
Her wrist was aggravating her too. She wrapped her other hand around it, massaging the joint as her mind wandered to how she had come to hurt it.
The fire alarm was ringing, its siren vibrating in her ear. She looked around, her heart beating out of her chest. Panic was rising, her chest growing tighter, harder to breathe.
"Stella." She spun to the voice, no one there to claim it.
"Stella." Mac? "Stella, your phone."
"Oh God," she moaned, snapping awake. She swiped a hand over the bedside table as Mac turned over, moving his arm from covering her.
"I can go off people, you know…" she croaked, after managing to make out 'Nat' on the caller I.D through lidded eyes.
"I know, I'm so sorry, but I can't find the Hurst case notes."
"Erm…" she wiped a heavy hand over her eyes. "Top drawer, on the left. Under the Slade notes."
She could hear shuffling, "Got 'em. Thank you! Return to your slumber."
"Mmhmm," she uttered, clicking off. She'd talk to her properly later.
"Everything okay?" a low voice asked.
"Yeah, couldn't find a file," her head was turned to him but her heavy eyes firmly closed again.
He smiled, "You okay?"
She slowly opened again, seeing him propped up on an elbow, looking down at her with a lazy smile. "Yeah. You?"
He nodded.
"You slept," she noted.
"I did. We should have tried that method before," he smirked.
She smiled lightly, her cheeks flushing, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious and aware of her complete lack of clothing. She wrapped the sheet around herself and sat up, swinging her legs around the bed. Her heart was beating almost painfully fast as she remembered the night before. Everything was irreparably changed now.
"Stella," Mac said with some urgency.
She stilled, her back still facing him.
"Do you…regret last night?"
She didn't answer but looked over her bare shoulder to him.
"I don't," he continued. "It was bound to happen at some point. It's been 16 years, Stella." He lightly stroked his knuckles down her arm. "I've wanted it to happen for a long time."
It hadn't been sixteen years, she told herself, it had been eight. Eight years since Claire had died. His wife. Whatever she may or may not have felt for the man that was null and void by the gold band that still adorned his finger. Still.
But his eyes were that unfamiliar shade of green that was mesmirising. Her rod-straight back softened as his eyes bore into her.
She'd never seen this side of Mac before. Always believed - and fantasised - that it was there, but never thought it could be quite so…potent. "Mac…" she warned.
"Shh…" he breathed, pulling on her wrist until his lips met hers.
He was very good at that, she found, as he thread his free hand into her hair and traced his tongue over hers. She moaned against him, inciting him to flip her back onto the bed, her captured wrist above her head.
She giggled at the unexpected move, Mac smirked before reclaiming her lips. His other hand trailed down her arm and let the other hand join its twin above her head. "Mac…"
"Welcome back," a voice announced, breaking her reverie.
Stella's head snapped to the doorway, hoping her cheeks weren't as ruby red as they felt as Nat stood watching her. "Hey. Thanks."
"How was it?"
"As can be expected," she answered, hanging her jacket on the hook.
"And Mac?" Nat asked with a nod.
"As can be expected," she repeated. "Did I miss anything?"
"Nothing huge. I've emailed you stuff you'll need to know."
"Great, thanks."
"I gotta go, Flack's got a suspect downstairs."
Stella nodded with a smile as Nat disappeared. She sat back down on the bench and closed the locker with a foot. It was going to be difficult to keep her thoughts platonic if/when people mentioned Mac.
Xx
He stood in his Mom's bedroom, his eyes falling onto the wedding picture by her bed. His heart was thumping, his breath shallow before a satisfying deep sigh filled his lungs momentarily. The façade was fading. He recognised this feeling.
Xx
"Hey, I'm off," Stella mentioned, poking her head into one of the labs. "Mac's landing soon."
"Okay," Nat smiled. "That was quick."
"You know Mac, married to the job."
"So he's coming back to work?"
"Probably. I'm going to try and talk him into reduced hours."
"And how well do you think that will go down?"
"I can be pretty persuasive, you know?"
"Oh, I do."
Stella laughed, "I gotta go."
The drive to JFK was unnecessarily long and stop-start. It wouldn't have bothered her much usually - she was a born and bred New Yorker, she was more than used to the traffic - but the intermittent need for concentration made her mind wander. The closer she got to the airport, the more anxious she was about how to act around Mac, what to say. Did she hug him? Or would that be to suggestive? What if he kissed her? Should she push him off?
Finally she made it to the maze of lanes surrounding the airport, finding a free space in the short-stay parking lot. She waited with the masses in the arrivals lounge telling herself to stop questioning. This was Mac Taylor. Regardless of the changing state of their friendship he was still the same Mac she'd known for 16years, and the same Mac Taylor who had just lost his mother. That was all she needed to know.
A small stream of travellers started to flow through the double doors; business men with laptop bags over their shoulders and impatient looks on their haggard faces. Grandparents were greeted by hyper children, lovers met with open arms. Then there was Mac.
His demeanour had reverted back to before their encounter. His eyes dark and sunken, his skin sallow and pale, his shoulders hunched as he lugged multiple bags.
"Do some shopping?" she smiled as he made his way to her. He dropped one of the holdalls to the floor with a gentle thud.
"Some of my Mom's things. Aunt Tracy's going to sort what's left," he muttered, releasing himself from her hug.
Well done, Stella, she thought. You thought about that opening line all the way here, and yet you forgot every single possible sentence and opened with THAT.
"Come on," she smiled lightly, swinging the fallen luggage to her own shoulder. "Let's get out of here."
Xx
She parked in the building's garage and killed the engine. "Thanks for this," Mac said, turning in his seat.
"Of course," Stella smiled. She avoided looking at his eyes, not able to trust herself should that certain shade of green look back at her. She leant down, her fingers finding the lever to the trunk.
Mac opened the door and began dragging his suitcases out. "Could you give me a hand upstairs with these?"
"Sure." She stole a look at him while he was focussing in the car. Still tired - he wasn't sleeping again - and still sad - maybe more so.
She grabbed hold of the handles to a holdall and threw it on her shoulder. Mac led the way to the elevator and stood with her in awkward silence as the musak was piped in through tinny speakers. It always annoyed her when she could link the lyrics to the tune but not for the life of her remember the title of the song. We were drawn from the weeds, we were brave like soldiers, falling down under the pale moonlight. You were holding me like someone broken, and I couldn't tell you but I'm telling you now. Just let me hold you while you're falling apart. Just let me hold and we'll both fall down.
Her own lack of sleep was catching up with her, it seemed, when a yawn escaped her, her eyes closing and hand covering her gaping mouth.
Mac stole a look at her. She looked tired - even more so mid-yawn; and her face looked pale in the poor light.
His eyes snapped back to the front as her yawn tapered off.
The carriage jerked to a stop and the two took hold of the luggage as Mac lead the way to the apartment.
"Thanks," he said, his bags making a thud as he dropped them on the kitchen table. "Just put it there."
She followed his direction and set the bag down against the wall. The bash of the door closing made her jump before Mac pinned her against the wall.
His hands her on her waist, his lips strongly fastened to hers. She held onto his shoulders, turning her head away from his kisses as she muttered, "No, Mac."
He caught her lips again, responsive despite the protests. "I thought you didn't regret the other day…" he breathed, travelling to her jaw bone.
"I don't," she managed. He left butterfly kisses down her neck, shuddering under his caresses. He latched onto the sweet spot at her collar bone, the one that almost made her forget her name. Breathless, she managed "Doesn't mean…it should happen…happen again…"
With the last word, she pulled his face back to hers and kissed him furiously, a leg wrapping around his waist.
Xx
"Where are you going?" he asked, stretching his arms above his head, the bed sheet flittering down his chest.
"I gotta go," she muttered, picking up a corner of the duvet and searching beneath the bed. "You seen my…" she waved in the general direction of her body.
He smirked, "Hall."
She narrowed her eyes with a chuckle, before following his instruction. "Found it!" she called back.
Mac folded his hands behind his neck, looking rather happy for himself. Stella's heels clicked across the hardwood flooring of the hall as she went back to the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe. "I gotta go."
He nodded, "You said that."
"I'll talk to you tomorrow," she smirked.
"Or sooner, if you want."
"Alright, Casanova," she called over her shoulder with a wave, her voice giving away the smirk he couldn't see.
It had gone dark as she made it to her car, the building's garage lights needing replacing. She slid a hand into her bag, her fingers wrapping around her piece in automatic precaution.
She sat down in the SUV, clicking the lock as soon as the door shut. "Shit," she breathed, noticing the parking ticket attached to her front window. She started the engine and rolled down the window, stretching an arm for the packet. She must have overstayed her welcome.
What are you doing, Stella? a voice of reason suddenly announced in her head.